


Das Bild des Falken (The hawk´s portrait)

by Red_Papermoon



Category: One Piece
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Family Feels, Other, Pre-Canon, despised yet treasured love-triangle, laugh yearn and cry with me, or more like a square?, so many carnations, tightrope in heaven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-06-08 10:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15240942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Papermoon/pseuds/Red_Papermoon
Summary: An abandoned island. A woman. A chest full of wine. Could be much worse...Mihawk doesn't actually have a reason to complain, but it doesn't happen everyday he takes a guest with him on his ship. Something different, at least. Especially these „interesting“ anecdotes she keeps telling him, whenever she sits in his spot. For better or for worse. What do you possibly (and accidentally) have to do... to get the best swordsman in the whole world to desperairingly search for you for months? Here's the answer...





	1. Poisonous Fate

**Author's Note:**

> german original by Red_Papermoon
> 
> translated by my fellow student Riku.

The morning was still young when the symbol of death appeared on the wide horizon. Surrounded by fog and a chilling sea breeze the dreaded ship with the cross-mast sailed above the calm sea. It was neither specifically huge nor fast or even heavily armed, but it was not famous for it's sheer wood. The true legend was the ship's captain. His name was well known for his reputation being the end of any ship on his path.  
Hawk Eyes Mihawk – the nightmare of every, coward pirate getting into his sight. There was a reason to be frightened. The greatest swordsman in the world was not only notable for his iron-cast will, but also his habit to look down on every single weak character, who either were too afraid to follow their dreams and rather gave up, or even boasted about themselves all lost in pride. Nevertheless the hawk-eyed man wasn't interested in much trouble or pointless fights. All alone with his little seal-ship, he enjoyed the sea's quite more than his own solitude.  
Without any noise or being sighted his ship floated above the calm waves. He had no destination to reach, but a good pirate always knew where the flood will deliver him. In his case: a small island with the common name „island of end“. Mihawk didn´t know why the island was named like that. He only heard rumours that it would be impossible for a human to survive on this place. Nevertheless, he had never been a man who easily believed in that kind of fairy tales. Perhaps he would find out the truth soon. First of all he would take this opportunity to improve his fighting skills on this abandoned piece of earth as soon as he arrived.  
The green flames on the candle started to dance in the soft rising wind. Not much of an adventure for Mihawk lately, except for the view of the ships he drowned. Back in his throne-like chair, casually crossing his legs, with his hat hiding his face, he slowly looked up with a cold expression in his eyes. He should arrive soon - it shouldn't take more than an hour – though the island already appeared on the horizon.  
Even if there was no sign of any fight, he rather had his sword on his back. So he did right now. Mihawk's collar softly shivered in the wind when he approached his destination.  
But the smaller the distance, the stranger the island seemed to be: it was more colourful than any rainbow, palms with light-blue stems, pink leafs and purple coconuts. That wasn't normal, right? Like the gaudy orange bushes. What a strange place. But in the end it didn´t matter to the black-haired god what exotic flora had evolved here. He would clear most of it up to gather some space anyway.

Soon it was time to dock the ship. The weather was pleasantly mild, only some sun rays broke through the cloudy sky. Way better than blazing heat or bone-chilling cold. Perfect conditions for an ordinary training. Moreover the legend, that no one could live on this island – why ever – made it even more profitable. Even if there wasn't a harbour, but – honestly - a ship of this size didn't really need one, because he was able to move as close as possible to the beach. Everything had it´s benefits. Besides, he has always been alone on his journey, so why would he need such a breath taking big ship, if other people started shuddering by seeing his approaching boat? It had become his brand in some kind of way.  
He made sure his boat wouldn't went on a trip and took a look on this „Rainbow Forest“ in front of him. A strange whim of nature.  
The islands name and being unable to live here was still very questionable. It had a pretty advantageous position. Plenty of other bigger islands, which had been an important center of trading and economical changes, where only a few hours away. So why wouldn't they use it?  
But all these questions seemed to be too unimportant for him to deal with and he banned them out of his mind.  
A low blowing wind came up and carried his coat in the air. It was such a beautiful day and he knew exactly how to use his time. Slowly he stepped into the deep woods. Everything was calm. Only the dance of the rattling leaves with the wind broke the silence.  
„Weird...“ the swordsman thought when he continued his walk. No bird, no lizard or even a single tiny insect showed up. What was this strange place? Everything seemed too surreal to be a part of reality. He paused after a while and arrived at a small glade, which he chose as basis for his training. This place was quite pleasant for him and he saw no reason to be skeptical. Why even? No one would distract him and there was no need to be considerate of anybody. Though he hesitated no longer and grabbed his Yoru – one of the most admirable swords in the world – of his back. It was indeed marvelous, not only because of the distinction of it's owner, but because the swords legend was way more considerable.  
A single hit would be enough and so Mihawk was about to take the first strike. A chest high, horizontal cut, causing a powerful, earth quaking blast. Like a green lightning, it busted over the small island, devastating everything in its path. Right in front of the world's best swordsman, who had already put away his sword, wood was literally falling from the sky. Hundreds of trees had fallen and a billion leaves flew hectically through the air before they softly lay down on the ground. One could mistake it for a huge battlefield... without people that had left their lives there.  
He confidently entered this „new glade“ and looked at his successfully created space. This would be far enough to train decently. The golden eyes inspected carefully the terrain, but suddenly his calm thoughts were distracted by someone clearing their throat. Surprised, he instantly turned around, just to acknowledge the last thing he would have count on.  
„May I help you, Mylord?“  
„A human on this deserted island“, was everything the black-haired man could think, when he saw a woman in front of him. He didn't know what to answer, he still struggled with the realization of this absurd situation he was stuck in.  
„Well, I mean... apparently you have been the one who devastated my complete collection of pictures and I thought I could hope to get a good answer why you did so.. otherwise it would be a great pity.“, the woman, who had brown hair, explained briefly while she tried to shake off the wooden splinters of her slightly raddled dress.  
In the end she seemed very upset, but nevertheless Mihawk still wasn't sure how to figure out this scenario, yet. Instead of an honest apology, though he indeed was the one who made this place to the ground.. apparently together with a few belongings of her, he said, with a small bow, to underline his sincerity:  
„If this is the truth, I'm honestly sorry. I never intended to harm you or to damage your pictures.“, a small bow underlined his sincerity about all this. His blunder could have caused her death after all. He just had been way too careless.  
Surprisingly, the woman was neither scared nor – even if she had all right to – angry with him. She even smiled a bit and calmly put her hair back behind her ear.

„Whatever. Once broken it can't be fixed, thus it'd be pointless weeping about the loss. Anyway, would you like spending some time with me? And if you're into good wine, I've got just the thing for you. So, if you're interested...“  
He must have misheard something, right? Did this woman, which he almost accidentally cut in half, really invited him to share some wine with her?! Right here? In this wrecked field?! By the way: wine was one of his favourites passions though.  
„Well.. I don't know you, so... does this confused stare and this silence mean yes..? no..? Or is it a maybe? If it's the first one, I'd like you to take a seat. Well, thanks to you, we got a table.“, said the apparently quite tough lady with a chuckle and pointed at the rock to her right, which lost a piece of itself, just like anything else in this area. Everything left was a rock, cut in half, having a smooth polished top. Next to it, chopped off tree trunks. A perfect seat!  
The swordsman took not long to accept the offer. Why should he refuse this delightful offer? He would have enough time to come to his beloved training, though he had no meetings. So he had enough time enjoying a glass of wine in a pleasant company. The other weak fools on the sea had stressed him out enough, and this incident was a welcome alternative. He thanked her quickly, walked straight to one of the tree trunks, took a seat next to it and - in order to his manners - took off his hat and put it next to him, still watching his astonishing host (if you could call her that).  
It was hard to define her appearance. He noticed - as much as the black head knew about clothes - she wasn't wearing a proper dress, but more a simple, probably had-been-white petticoat, one of those women wear beneath their pompously decorated dresses. Her dress was more like a nightgown, albeit it had been adorned with ruffles, just not as much as the dresses he knew. What happened to the outer garment though? Even more confusing was her polite attitude compared to her ragged look. Her middle-long, voluminous brown hair was pinned up somehow. Her sore hands and all the tiny scratches on her arms apparently hadn't been treated yet. In contrast the ruby she wore around her neck seemed to be pretty real.  
Nothing about her fit at all, above all the fact that she was living on this >uninhabitable island<.  
“What are you doing on an abandoned island and why are you here?”, he asked with his regular serious voice. He has not mincing matters before and he wouldn't start to do so now. Even if they never met before, didn't even know each other and all this clearly wasn't his matter, he was curious. And no one ever got hurt by a question. The addressed woman didn't make any intimations of a response and rather spend her attention on a wooden crate she pulled out of an amount of destroyed wood.  
“Well, how to explain..”, she finally answered giving him a brief, elusive look and opened up the crate.  
“...Yah..?”, he dug deeper. She hesitated.  
“It's hard to say. But – making it short – I'm sentenced here to die.”  
“What?!” This was indeed hard to swallow for the experienced swordsman, even if it was hard to notice any change in his face expression, except for the more serious, almost dark look on his face. He wasn't a man of big emotions. In his opinion, no one had a concern about his feelings, which was the reason to habour them.  
“To die? Why? I bet it's not because of your age.” In this situation he forgot everything about his manners and started talking in a way more casual, impolite way.  
“No, of course not.”, she smirked, “If it's normal to die at the age of 31, life would be way less worth living.”  
“So, why then?”  
“'Cause it's impossible to survive on this island. Just look around!”  
Confused by this demand, Mihawk took a look around.  
“Aren't you aware of this slightly, tiny detail? Isn't the forest a little bit too colourful? You know, strong colours only appear naturally either saying 'Hey, I'm the most beautiful, procreate with me!' or 'Caution, this is a warning. I'm highly dangerous. Don't dare eating me!' Unfortunately, nothing here wants to express option one. Every single leaf is highly poisonous, there neither animals nor drinkable ground water, because it's contaminated by the plant's roots. Any more questions, Mylord?”, her speech came to an end and she looked up to the – in her opinion – handsome man, who couldn't resist a smile this time.  
“ts.. well, yeah of course I have. You haven't answered my question properly yet. I can see for myself you aren't able to live here, but this doesn't hints a clue why you're here at all. I think it wasn't all your desire to stay here at this curious island, or am I wrong?”  
More a statement than a question but he couldn't imagine anything else. Her answer, on the other hand, was more than unexpected.  
“White or red?” The only response she got was a baffled look on his face.  
This has nothing to do with my question. Is she trying to avoid this conversation again?  
“What do you mean 'white or red'?”, he got a bit annoyed, tried to figure out the point of her stupid, petty question.  
“Ah, nothing important. I just assumed someone, who claims being a wine expert is aware that there are red and white wines.” she explained innocently, giving 'her guest' a gleeful smile, but he didn't even think about putting up with this kind of sight and averted his own eyes. Yeah. He did forget the invitation to the wine, so what? This new subject was obviously way more interesting.  
He kept in silence. Should be fine with her.  
She paused for a moment, albeit she already held their two glasses in her hands.  
“Coming back to your question. Yes, I'm not here by choice. The ship I had been on sunk in the fury of a storm. I passed out cliche-like and stranded together with many wracks and even more dead bodies. More of them probably lie on the sea ground by now. Without any food or medical help I realised I will die from weakness within a few days anyway. This was three days ago and even if I will die alone, I thought I could make myself useful at least.”  
Confidently she went to the black-head and put down the two glasses right in front of him on the rock-table.  
“It's been two days since I buried the poor souls which also stranded. 72 of 50 strong crew members and 150 passengers the waves had brought to this island. As the only survivor, it was my duty to care for those, who had less luck than me.. as long as I am able to. Fortunately I just finished my work this night.” After she spoke this words she sat down on the other tree trunk right next to the rock. She lost herself in the sky, relived everything again.  
Oh boy, what did he do? He got a guilty conscience for the questioning and looked at her. He had drowned so many pirate ships but no one ever survived. At least he never met a survivor.. well afterwards, of course..  
He didn't even noticed how long the Samurai of the Sea had watched her. She barely moved. Simply two strands of her vague hairstyle waved smoothly in the wind and the few sun rays through the cloudy sky made her dark green eyes glow brighter than any emerald. Suddenly her preoccupied expression changed and she responded to his stare. This made him gather his wits and concentrate to take his look casually down.  
“I'd prefer red.” he spoke softly. She responded with a smile.  
“As you wish.”


	2. Jade for the hawk

The grief, she must have carried within, wasn't noticeable when she returned to the wooden crate and pulled out a drawer-like folder with plenty of wine bottles lied side by side. Mihawk was astonished. A marvellous wine stock for the road. More of red wine but white bottles, as well.  
She turned around.  
“You prefer dry or sweet? Young or old?”.  
Despite the range of choice the swordsman didn't take long to choose. “an old dry would be pleasing.”  
“I see.” pondering she pulled out bottle for bottle, looking for a fitting one until her peach-coloured lips formed up a smile.  
“Would a 54-year-old Château Latour be convenient?”, she asked examining the chosen bottle.  
_Such a precious and expensive one_ thought the Samurai before he clearly replied: “There is no need to waste this rare bottle on me. It is none for drinking on the side.”  
Surprisingly she still carried the bottle in her arms and headed to him.  
“Why waiting any longer? Don't you think it would be more fun, opening a good wine in company? Besides, it makes much more sense discussing with another person than alone. Furthermore... I'll die soon. So why let the good stuff wait?”  
Mihawk hesitated.  
“Well, I have nothing to add. All right then. open it up.”  
He didn't stand a chance to disagree and watched her pouring this delicate rarity into their glasses.  
“I hope he keeps his promises. It was no piece of cake bringing this precious fellow into my hands, therefore an unsatisfying taste would be more than a pity.” She inspected the glass which shimmered in the sun and broke the light.  
_If this is your greatest worry..._ should be fine with the black-haired. He tried to approach her.  
“How is the possibility for this one to taste poorly? I think you sure can demand some certain quality for this amount of money.”  
“Sure, but there are other silly people who are likely willing to pay even more for much more stupid things.” She gave him a critical look. “The price doesn't make the quality.”  
Unimpressed by this shot across the bows Mihawk took a slight sip and tasted the wines well-known flavour. Utterly satisfied his hard-favoured face turned into a gentle smile.  
“Perhaps. But in this case, it does.”  
She had to chuckle.  
“Day is saved, then!”  
This time he was it who looked critically upon her.  
“Yes.. The day maybe, but not your life.” He thought it reasonable to start this conversation once again.  
Sighing she set aside her glass.  
“Is there anything I can do for you so you can leave my situation in peace? See, it is anything else but enlightened dredging up my very soon death. So tell me: Is there any option for us to avoid this subject?”, she replied with a serious touch in her voice but her face was weary even if she kept her stance.  
“Indeed.” his brief answer was accompanied by a mock boredom while he sway the liquid inside his glass.  
Confused about his changing attitude she wasn't sure how to react properly, but she was indeed too tired and exhausted to get upset.  
“Well enough, I yield. What's that about? And don't tell me you simply want more wine, because I won't believe that.”  
“Well, it seems you have to. You can believe me or call me a liar, but I have plenty of time left au contraire to you.” He briefly stated, took another sip and gave her a very meaningful look. The lady next stump responded with another, equally speaking look saying: No chance. I won't believe you.  
“So you telling me, if I keep sharing my wine with you, you will keep shut and leave me in peace?”  
“Not exactly.”  
Exhausted she dropped her head down and took a few deep breaths. “I really got the desire to hit my skull heavily against a suiting wall. So would you please get to the point?! It is going to make me go insane and I had definitely not enough wine yet to ignore your behaviour.”  
Mihawk held back his laughter. He hadn't had this feeling of joy for a long time now.  
“I just wanted to say that – for another glass of this marvellous wine – I'd gladly bring an end to this whole story and take you with my ship to the next bigger island. I know how tiny the chances are that someone else comes willingly to this god-damned island for at least the next 100 years, though... I think it's a fair trade. You don't have to, if you don't want of course.” He kissed his glass innocently while she gave him an indefinable stare.  
“So you propose.... My life and a chance of a future... and a glass of wine in return?!”  
All this was incredibly amusing for the swordsman.  
“Definitely. Honestly, why not?! I don't see any problem with it. I really don't buy you love this wine that much you would choose it over my proposal. Besides the next bigger island is maximally three or four days from here, therefore, we wouldn't spend an eternity together. A win-win situation.”  
“It's just.. the benefits are highly imbalanced though. But well enough. I would be a fool if I deny this trade.” A slight smile came back to her lips.  
Mihawk literally felt her relief. Understandable... _moreover, what kind of person would leave her behind?_ Certainly, she probably didn't do anything so wrong in her past for that she deserved starving to death. So she could be his companion for a few miles without him getting a bad conscience. Knowing his ship wasn't big at all, but it shall transitionally be enough for two people. All the details can be discussed later.  
Smilingly she caught his look.  
“And with whom I have the honour to go on this journey?”  
This question felt like a small lighting inside his head. Doesn't she knew him? How curious and yet convenient. It'd be a refreshing relief for him to meet someone who wouldn't blame him for his reputation. “Mihawk Dulacre. Perhaps you heard the name Hawk-Eye before? Most people only know my title, not my real name.”, he explained briefly on which she kept quiet for a moment.  
“Hawk-Eye.... Yes, indeed! Who does not know this name? The best swordsman in the wide world! … Even no one ever met him.. or never will.”  
He lowered his gaze, hiding his slight embarrassment. A pity, she did already know him. But what did he hoped for to be disappointed like this?  
The tension increased when the Black-Head spit out a question he only wanted to bear in his mind. “Will this change anything...?”  
“Pardon me?”  
He shortly stopped. “Pardon me! I didn't say anything.”  
She looked at him with a sense of confusion followed by suspicion. “Of course you did. I think it was – let me quote – Will this change anything...?”  
_Did I said that out loud?_ “Well, that was just some gibberish. Just forget about this.” he tried to push this conversation away from him, but she didn't thought about relieving him and started to laugh out loud.  
“Why? Apparently, you did ask a good question. I sense your concerns and would like to answer your gibberish – if you permit. So let me guess: You fear, since I know your name, my opinion will change simply because you are who you are. It is true, your reputation is indeed unambiguous. You see, everything I know about you, about your title is simply caused by your actions or fights you did in the past and people muttering about. But all this are stories and tales, which have nothing to do with your true self. Perhaps you are strong – as a fighter but you have a strong mind as well. But honestly, does all this really say anything about you? Nothing at all. Knowing all this has nothing to do with your true character. Therefore.. I don't care about who or 'what' you are. I want to become familiar with your true self. And who could introduce your modest person better than yourself?”  
She spoke in a soft but serious tone and caused one of the rarest things: The great Hawk-Eye was so overwhelmed of her wit he simply have been dumbfounded.  
His speechlessness was way longer than expected, which amused her and seduced her to continue her monologue.  
“Is it the wine which forbids any loud to come out of your mouth?” She had to hide a chuckle while the Black-Head was too perplex to even realise how much he had amused her. In his mind he only silenced for about a second.  
“Shall I laugh about the hand which is supposed to save me? Wouldn't be that smart, right?”  
_Is he insulted now?_ The brunette thought while she stood up. “Please, don't hate me for this. But I guess this opportunity to see you like this in future again, it must be a rarity for a strong man like you having such a weak moment.” she affirmed incidental, took the more than a half-filled bottle and placed it right next to him. “It shall be yours.” she stated lovely smiling and turned her back to the swordsman.  
Hardly a step away she heard a well-known voice: “May I ask who I pledged my help to?”  
Surprised but even more delighted by this question she turned around again.  
“Myléne – and her gratefulness is all yours.”  
_Myléne..._ , it echoed inside the black-haired man's mind. _What a name and.. what a lady._ He couldn't resist looking after her when she returned to the crate to close it.  
But there was a little thing left to know for her.  
“Tell me, what brought you here? I hardly imagine your pour boredom brought you to this god-damned place.” she didn't harboured her interest and gave him a look above her shoulder. Immediately the viewed man lowered his gaze.  
“Training. I thought an abandoned island like this would give a perfect ground. How should I even imagine to meet survivals of a ship wreckage? Besides, I prefer some more space rather than less.” he truthful explained and took another sip of the wine.  
Again she turned to the crate. “I see. Don't let me bother you.”  
“Wasn't my intention.” A lie. Actually, he already decided to train at a another time.  
He shouldn't let her bother him. Apparently, the island was huge enough and she could simply stay out of the danger zone. If there wasn't this different problem: He had no further motivation left returning to his training right now. Something else caught his interest much more than his training routine but didn't want to take back his words either.  
“Very well. I wouldn't allow you to stop your training for me anyway. Furthermore, I won't stay in your way, I will simply go somewhere else. Maybe we should make a meeting point for later.”  
“Of course.” Even if this were the swordsman's, he just wanted to slap himself in the face for his hasty words before. Angry at himself he cleared his glass and placed it on the stomp next to him, picked up his hat and put it on his head. When his stupidity forced him to train he'd rather start it soon so he would be finished on time so he could leave this island on the same day. It wasn't his intention staying longer than required.  
“I'll bring you to my ship. You can wait there as long as I'm training.” he coldly clarified, stemming his arm on his hips. “What do you want to keep with you?”  
“Oh not that much. This crate and some little things or two I could have saved after they stranded here.”  
“I see.” To be honest he hadn't counted on much anyway. Why even? If one was washed up on a soul-left island, one was lucky not being simply alive but having some useful tools left from a wrecked ship. Apparently, she had this kind of luck. And so did he. A crate full of the finest wines! If this wasn't luck!  
“What are those "things"?”   
“Well..” the dark-haired woman shyly runs with her tender hand through a few loose strands. Mihawk watched her sceptically and raised an eyebrow. “Thanks to you we don't have much to carry. All in all, there is this crate myself and the cloth I wear. Oh and this little casket with my charcoal pencils. Everything else is lost due to your passionate training...” “oh... yah..” this little incident came back to his mind which obviously devastated her whole gallery. And good Lord... he had no idea how to compensate this, especially because all this things were unique and can't be simply brought back. With an increasing guilty conscience he decided to get an overview of the mess he was responsible for. He heaved the crate on his right shoulder. Urgently hoping the number wasn't too big he asked “How many drawings were included in your collection?” “You don't want to know. Really!” she tried to dodge the question and added an appeasing hand move to play down the situation... as if her loss weren't that bad, but her behaviour only made it even more obvious that the number of those pictures were higher than his conscience could bear. “Ah come on. I really want to know.” Second lie within five minutes. A weepy sigh came out of her mouth. “Very well...” inhaling deeply and exhaling calmly. “164.” This knowledge hit him like a hammer right on his face and directly stroke his conscience. “.... all drawn by myself.” The hammer formed a jack-hammer. “...the whole pride of my artistic existence the last twenty years...” This certainty turned into a steel weight just to slam his conscience.. a weight of approximately 164 tons. Oh dear... the best swordsman in the world really messed up this time. A negligent move he will regret for a long time. Yielding inside he started to move. “well, let's go then so we can leave this place before dusk.” She nodded quietly, took the casket with the charcoal pencils and followed him gloomily. _Why did he had to ask when he probably already knew that he would never able to settle this debt he was in?_


End file.
